


Heartsick with want.

by songofproserpine



Series: AkeShu: The Thing That Feels [5]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: French Kissing, Glove Kink, Love Bites, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 16:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofproserpine/pseuds/songofproserpine
Summary: From a Tumblr prompt: "Cataglottism - kissing with tongue."Ren's laugh was cut short as Goro leaned in and sealed his mouth with a sharp, angry kiss, half teeth and fury, all want and hunger. Goro was tired of trying to find a cure for the ache that bore Ren's name. Let each kiss bear that burden now.ETA 4/8/2018: Edited to change the protag's name to his canon name, as well as a small rewrite.





	Heartsick with want.

**Author's Note:**

> Definitely listen to [Of Methodist's "Authority"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lP96NBUwmKM) while reading this. It was on while I was writing this, and it's a pronoun-appropriate song too!

Goro's heart clanged against his ribs. He was nervous—more than nervous, he was _anxious_ , all wound up like a spring itching to bend and burst but denied that needed release.

This wasn't Goro's first time in Ren’s room. They'd had meetings there before with his other friends, discussing the upcoming challenge of the Palace or an anomaly in Mementos. But this was Goro's first time in the room as something more… personal.

With this in mind, Goro looked at the attic with a fresh pair of eyes, keenly aware of the furniture and all soft, flat surfaces. There was the couch, which looked—and smelled—like it belonged in an antique store. There was the bed, conspicuously free of blankets, stark and crisp and almost frustratingly intimate.

A bed had never looked quite so demanding before; Goro could hardly look away.

Goro was also grimly aware the utter lack of actual _privacy_ in the room. Ren didn't have a door to shut his personal space from the stairwell leading downstairs, and this made Goro's skin itch. A frisson of unease rippled down his back, tracing the bumps of his spine.

As if he could sense the other boy's unease, Ren turned around to face Goro for the first time since they came up the stairs. A small, shy smile lit up his face; it was the same smile that Goro had earlier trapped between the hungry press of his lips. Just looking at it filled his heart with courage.

"Does this work for you?" Ren asked, indicating the room.

Goro flexed his fingers. "You're the one who suggested it, remember?"

Ren stayed silent. His eyes never left Goro's face. When he finally moved, he did so in slow, languid gestures, as if he were giving Goro space to stop him.

Goro didn't move. He didn't blink—he barely breathed.

Goro watched as Ren picked up his hands by the wrist and examined them, paying particular attention to the gloves he wore. With that same intensive focus, Ren eyed the buttons that kept the gloves fastened in place, sliding his thumbs over their small, smooth surface.

All the air in the room seemed far too thin and weak. Goro’s lungs ached with the need of it.

In a flash, Ren slid his thumbnails beneath the metal clasps—one, two—snapping them out of place. The movements were quick and easy, almost careless.

Goro's heart pounded hard and heavy, rocking him forward and back. He dragged his teeth against his bottom lip just as Ren lifted one of his hands up.

Head bent, mouth open, Ren gently, _agonizingly_ , took one gloved fingertip between his teeth and pulled. The glove slid up a few torturous inches off from Goro's hand, freeing his palm. Ren repeated this with each finger, lightly nipping against the leather, making Goro keenly aware of his teeth and tongue.

Once his hand was finally free, Goro tried to pull back, hiding his bare skin in a fist, but Ren tightened his grip. He shot Goro a look that all but pinned the other boy in place, setting his nerves aflame with a new kind of need: the safety and comfort of vulnerability.

Slowly, once again leaving room for the other boy to stop him, Ren bent his head and pressed his lips in a long, languishing kiss right in the heart of Goro's palm.

Every breath left Goro’s lungs in a tight rush.

Heart and life and love lines were lost beneath the weight of Ren's lips; he traced them lightly with his tongue. Ren’s eyes never left Goro's face, and that sickle-smirk he was learning not to hate seeped across the dark haired boy’s face as he continued to slide his tongue over the newly bared skin.

Goro's moans were strangled but persistent, a crush of noise and need and want that struggled through his throat and out of his half-open, aching mouth. When Ren moved to his other hand, once again removing the glove finger by finger, bite by bite, Goro felt his knees lock, all patience evaporating in the heat of their touch.

This was too much. All of it, every little detail. He couldn’t stand it.

Goro ripped his hand free of Ren's grasp and leaned down, closing the distance between them in one determined flash. His half bare hand curled around the back of Ren's head, sinking his fingers into the dark, wavy hair and holding it tight, while his other hand cupped the other boy's chin.

Ren's laugh was cut short as Goro leaned in and sealed his mouth with a sharp, angry kiss, half teeth and fury, all want and hunger. He was tired of trying to find a cure for the ache that bore Ren's name. Let each kiss bear that burden now.

He led the kiss with his tongue, savoring the taste and warmth and heat of Ren's mouth. Coffee and mint and something smaller, bitter—probably from the gloves.

 _Good_. To know that a part of him was inside Ren in some small way, however fleeting, made this entire humiliatingly wonderful situation worth the trouble it would later cause. _I'm there, I'm_ here _, with him, a part of him._

It seemed a fair trade, considering all the ways Ren had already dug himself down to the root and bones of Goro. Those smiles, that laugh, that careless ease—all of it, every part that made Ren who he was, had burrowed down deeper than marrow and blood in the sort of invasion that made Goro heartsick with want. Ren was a trespasser in the sanctuary of Goro's soul, and so he would give back for every inch he suffered, give it all back with tongue and teeth and clutching, clawing hands, each touch whispering the need that burned his skin to cinders and bone.

And for once, for the first time in his whole life, Goro didn't hesitate. He didn't stop to think or overthink, didn't pause for anything longer than a small gasp of air before he dove right back in to trading kisses. The longest gap between one kiss and the last only happened when Ren pulled him over to the bed and they collapsed in a tangle of clothes and hands and legs, Goro assuming his rightful place over him.


End file.
